Log in

20 December 2009 @ 06:50 pm
Since I rp both Zhyal and Bheid in this story I thought I'd write up what happens between these two in a short ficlet format rather than try and rp it out with myself because that would be silly. Here goes.

Read more...Collapse )
20 December 2009 @ 04:28 am
Picks up after scene 1, I guess I'm calling it. Back with Elym, Seyd, and Kerigan.
Read more...Collapse )
19 December 2009 @ 03:36 am
Setting is running concurrent with the previous scene, just across the plaza in the Priorate HQ.

Read more...Collapse )
Logging a role play I'm doing with Jack. Seems like the convenient place to put it that both of us can get to.
Read more...Collapse )
12 December 2009 @ 09:00 pm
Proof that I somehow attract the clinically and possibly criminally insane. I swear I did nothing knowingly to provoke this IM except for one snarky offhanded comment in the chatroom which I then dismissed because it wasn't important. I get this IM followed by another on another sn once I ignored her for the first time. Look at the crazy! Just too damn funny not to share. I'm science_is_progress but that should be obvious.

Read more...Collapse )
22 November 2009 @ 09:59 pm
Because I want to showoff what a damn good Sawyer I am. No shame.

analucia_is_lost: Well, hello there.

james_lsawyerl_ford: Hello there, Lulu.

analucia_is_lost: What's up, cowboy?

james_lsawyerl_ford: -Lowers the smutty romance novel he's read about a half a dozen times already.- Something I can do you for, Pocahontas?

analucia_is_lost: -Scoffs- ...no. Was just getting some mangoes for Jack. Where's Kate? -arching both brows-. Lost her again? -folding arms across chest with a slight annoyed stance.-

james_lsawyerl_ford: -Purses his lips into a bemused grin.- I ain't her keeper. So you're Jack's mango girl now?

analucia_is_lost: ...what the hell is that supposed to mean? -Advancing on him slightly.- She's your girlfriend, am I wrong? I'm getting food for *other* people, you're not exactly doing anything.

james_lsawyerl_ford: -Barks out a laugh.- Kate? Hell, I'd like her to keep my sandy sleeping bag warm at night, but with the choices I got on this here Giligan's Island that ain't saying a whole lot now is it? As for the food, it grows all over, don't see any reason for me to go out and fetch it all when everyone else can do the same.

analucia_is_lost: You're an asshole, anyone ever tell you that? -She muttered, stopping from advancing on him and just stood there.- It. Never. Happened. -Speaking of their time, how Michael had tried to kill her, and... the whole gun thing.- -Funny thing was, she was the one who told him to keep his mouth shut, and here she was bringing it up.- - Ana frowned, still glaring some-what.-

james_lsawyerl_ford: Well you just did, cupcake. -Has a sneaky suspicion that the ex-cop didn't take too kindly to his nicknames. Good. It meant she wouldn't get too close.- Then again, -he drawled out, head tilting just enough to let hair fall in his face- not like it's the first time I've ever heard that. -Grunts with a shift of his postion, going from his casual recline to standing.- There a reason you're standing in my light?

analucia_is_lost: Truth be told, she was kind of soft. After all, Ana-Lucia had told people to 'give Sawyer her best'. She frowned, tucking back some of her ebony strands behind her ear and looked down at the sand. "Forget it." glaring daggers at him with that dark gaze and headed away from him, turning her back on him so he probably could stare at her ass but she didn't care. Funny thing was, they were the only ones that seemed to be around right now. Jack had gone off to play golf with Hurley and Kate, she hadn't heard Claire or Charlie bickering about Aaron. Grabbing onto the messenger bag on the sand, her olive colored hand picked it up and started to go through how much food they had for the day. Like she gave a shit anymore.

james_lsawyerl_ford: Well now wasn't that interesting. Generally he'd just shrug and go back to his reading, or if he was really feeling energetic he might scheme, but he rarely chased after anyone. It was a nice afternoon but that ass was nicer and he always did like a mystery. Since no one else seemed to be around for any entertainment he threw the book down along with his reading glasses and tromped through the sand after the head strong latina. "Hey now wait one second. *You* came over to *me*, remember? So what's this all about?"

analucia_is_lost: "If I said nevermind, it means nevermind." whirling on him with a fist raised. "I just wanted to..." but the Hispanic beauty had no excuse, her eyes stared at him coldly. "I wanted to see if you'd help...get the mangoes." what a terrible lie. That was one check mark, her mother would have said she was a terrible liar and it had been the truth after she had tried to say that Jason wasn't the one who had shot her. Hadn't Sawyer seen the scar on her stomach? He had no questions? Ana-Lucia was like a puzzle, she couldn't be figured out...yet it was so easy to put the pieces together. She couldn't kill Benjamin Linus, she couldn't shoot him...she couldn't do this anymore. "Just c'mere." Cortez muttered and disappeared off into the foliage.

james_lsawyerl_ford: He rolled his eyes at her blatant lie but if there was one thing he knew it was that people rarely concealed the truth for too long. They let it out in quieter ways than words, if you were smart enough to look for those silent signals you could find out a lot about a person without ever having to ask. Still, there were a lot of pieces to this woman. That alone kept him from ignoring her and returning to his book. "Alright, Gonzales, I'll help you with your melons." A purposeful switch of words. Grunting at the bush that was attemping to consume his foot he followed along after yanking it free. "What's so special about these mangoes, anyway? Don't take two people, not like they can run." And she had a bag to carry them in, it was a valid question. Plus, he liked to see her lie.

analucia_is_lost: "Shut up." she muttered, Ana took the messenger bag off from her persona and set it down on the jungle floor. "I'm gonna throw them down...and you put them in. Simple enough for you?" the Latina sassed and already turned her back once again to him, climbing up the tree. Hey, if she could get Bernard down that one time, then she could definitely get mangoes down. "My melons, are none of your business." rolling her eyes, getting the joke a little too late considering the brunette had been concentrating on other things. First mango that came down, she threw hopefully smacking him in the head. "Sorry." not caring if it hit him or not. Her slender body finally tossed down a few more, despite the messenger bag being half full. Anyone could go and get food, her lies were pretty bad. "This sucks."the woman muttered more to herself then him.

james_lsawyerl_ford: "Yeah, simple enough," he drawled out with a sass of his own. "Plus, I get to see that police trained ass from here and I don't much like climbing trees." At least not for the benefit of everyone else. They could get their own damn mangoes for all he cared. Looking up at her climbing figure he should have seen the fruit coming. Perhaps his eyes were just not accustomed to falling fruit as they were to the curves of a lithe woman's figure. Whichever the case, the mango hit him square in the forhead with a resounding crack. Quickly he lifted a hand to the banged spot to rub agrily at it. "You wanna watch where you're tossing those things?! Ow--goddamn," he grumbled, making hissing sounds of pain when he touched the injured spot. He tossed her a glare upwards before swiping up the fruit and stuffing it into the bag. Next time he looked up he had his eyes on the fruit. Hell, that was going to leave a mark.

analucia_is_lost: All it took was one wrong branch and she slid. "Ah shit." the tomboy muttered in that rasp, attempting to pull herself back up again, but failed and fell. Ontop of him now, boy the poor guy would have to endure not only falling fruit, but a falling Ana-Lucia. Straddling him, she glared down at him. "Get off of me." attempting to get up, but didn't really realize she hand her hands pinning his wrists down. Dark eyes stared down at him, knowing that this was the kind of predicament that she didn't want to be in. Hell, she wasn't even drunk. The young woman had however picked up some Sawyer antics, after all...they were two of a kind. "Son of a bitch." she muttered.

james_lsawyerl_ford: Hell, he knew this had to be a bad idea, but he assumed she'd have better luck than he would up a tree. Guess he was wrong. Luckily enough he saw her slip and had just enough decency to at least try and catch her. The thought was nice but the implementation of it was lacking and they both ended up on the ground. "You're considerably heavier than a mango, Hot Lips," he grunted out between shallow breaths after having the wind knocked out of him. When she ordered him to get off of her he just grinned. "You're the one top, which is, in my humble observations, the way you like it." 'So don't complain' was the tone the had. Canting his head to one side he lifted a brow slightly. "Gonna get up or are you starting to like the view?"

analucia_is_lost: Any sane woman would blush, but instead she reeled back a fist hoping to punch him, whether she hit her mark or not didn't matter. "That's the last time I ask you to help with...my mangoes." Cortez grit her teeth, this was foolish and oh so stupid. "Shut up, Sawyer." crashing her lips down upon his. Her nails made sure to dig into his wrists, the hell she liked it on top. He obviously knew her now. Was it love? She didn't know. Was it hate? Most likely, but there was no gun involved now. Apart of her seemed to wonder if he did really like Kate and back when Jack and Kate had betrayed her and Sawyer had tried to frame her for Sun...well things didn't really go so well together. Especially when he named himself the sheriff, like hell h was the sheriff. Only one cop here and it wasn't him.

Sawyer: Being a con artist meant you had to see things coming. You had to predict people, read them, understand their motives and drives and plan accordingly. Yet with all his years experience he did *not* see that kiss coming. Not even close. So it probably explained why he was a little too shocked to really kiss back. "...the hell, Lucy?" From what he knew about her she didn't care much for him and that had suited him just fine. It seemed the only way he knew how to be with a woman was when he was conning her. This was unfamiliar territory despite all his talk. "You got a reason why you suddenly felt the need to resuscitate me?"

Ana-Lucia: Furrowing her brows, Ana let go of his wrists and rolled off of him. She was hard to read, and she knew it. "...you ever wonder...where that scar came from?" getting up onto her feet. "You know, the one on my stomach?" Ana asked, it was just a question. How the hell did he know it would mean anything? So she lifted up the hem of her black tank top and showed him, just at her midriff. "I was shot..." letting her gaze flicker back up to meet his. "On duty." shrugging her shoulders, it probably meant nothing to him. Absolutely nothing.

Sawyer: Wasn't she just a rollercoaster of confusion? Some might dislike that in a person but Sawyer took it as a challenge. For a moment he just laid there on his back trying to make sense of it all before rolling over onto his side to glance at her stomach when she pointed it out. "Looks like a gunshot wound to me, sister," he agreed. It seemed reasonable that she'd be shot while on duty since she'd been a cop in a previous life. A life before that damnable plane crash. "So, what was it? Take one for a fellow donut muncher?" He had such a way with words.

Ana-Lucia: "I was pregnant." a faint smile, but it faded. "I just let him reach...thought he had I.D, yanno? Like he was just a kid. He wasn't." Ana tilted her head to the side. "Why am I telling you this?" scoffing and bent over to grab onto the messenger bag, zipping it up. She watched him however out of the corners of her eyes and saw the way he was just laying there. There was emotion in her eyes, but Cortez wasn't one to cry. Hell she didn't, only for Eko.

Sawyer: Now he felt a little awkward but he wasn't about to let it show. Instead of compassion, an emotion he wasn't entirely familiar with, he simply let out a whistle. "Whew, momacita, you do have some issues." He couldn't say he understood because he didn't. He couldn't give her any words of consolation because he didn't know any. The best he could offer was a bit of blithe sarcasm and blunt honesty. "I don't know why you're telling me this, ain't like I was the one who shot you." He finally got to his feet. "Though, I do have a way with guns." That was given with a wide smirk, still utterly proud of himself for that feat.

Ana-Lucia: "Did it occurre to you, that maybe one day...someone would actually like your sorry ass?" the tomboy sighed, staring at him as she folded her arms across her chest. "What do you want me to say to you? Yeah, it took a near death experience to ..." she trailed off. "Just go find Kate, I'm sorry I tried." and began to walk off once more. Good lord, she actually had feelings for him. Deep inside, Cortez was screaming, she could just kick herself for this. The woman promised that she'd never like anyone like Danny again, never be happy again. Not after the Others took the kids...not until someone would actually feel the way she did and not just be a hardened leader.

Sawyer: "Ain't nobody ever has," he shot back, "not the real me, anyhow." And wasn't that the truth. Sure, he could get women to do just about anything for him but they were always googly eyed for the persona he was putting on for them, not for who he really was. Not a one of them would have stuck around or even given him the time of day if they really knew. Hell, most days he didn't even like himself either. "Right, go find Kate. Sounds to me like someone here's a little jealous," he called out after her. Jealous of what, though? Maybe he'd never figure these women out. With a bemused sigh he ran a hand back through his shaggy hair to get it out of his eyes.

Ana-Lucia: "Jealous? You think, someone would actually give two shits if you were a smooth talking, con man? ...boy, I've conned you." she spoke, now going off on him in Spanish a little. "I see through you, Sawyer. What the hell is your real name anyway? I gave you mine." sarcasm. Wouldn't it be funny if she actually knew back when she had been Christian's body guard that she had hit Sawyer with the car door, how ironic. "What are you hiding from?" now there was emotion in her tone. "This cat and mouse game, cute as it is. ..." furrowing her brows. She wasn't one to run away from things, it was either take it by full force or get rid of it.

Sawyer: "Look, Princess, you're the one who kissed me, alright? Not the other way around. You don't like me? Fine. You like me? Fine. This here ain't no Temptation Island." With the question as to his real name he paused with a deep frown. Now that was just territory no one really deserved to go into. "I don't see how that's any of your business, I never asked you to tell me your name so it ain't like I owe you mine." And besides that, information was expensive and he didn't think she had the currency for it.

Ana-Lucia: "I kissed you to get a gun." Ana-Lucia countered, clearly not amused with the situation. "But you're afraid, aren't you? It's none of my business? Bull shit, you're not telling me anything because you're too much of a pussy to tell the truth. You play it like you're hardcore but you don't even know what that means." words were cold, always cold. She started to walk away, just as the sound of the baby was heard in the distance. Baby Aaron. Claire was probably up and about by now, where the hell had everyone gone? "Good game, Jack." Kate smirked, the doctor just looked like he could cry, always. "I almost beat you." he nodded with a smirk.

Sawyer: He stared her down with a fierce furrowing of his brows. That bitch. Alright, she wanted to play a game she was going to have a tough time winning. "Oh and I suppose you do?" He countered back to her claim that he didn't know the meaning of hardcore. Maybe he didn't but he sure as all hell didn't think she knew any better. "You think one little gun is going to protect you?" He stepped forward, angry now that she'd gotten one up on him, and did his damnedest to look intimidating. "You can either give it back or I'll take it back, comprende?" He could hear the others of their group in the distance but he didn't give one damn. This was none of their goddamn business.

Ana-Lucia: Well, an ideal thing to say was 'over her dead body' but somehow she didn't think that was appropriate. It didn't occur to him that maybe he wasn't the only tortured soul on the island. "Not to protect me, but to kill him, Jackass." Ana said loudly so anyone could hear them. Though no one did, they were pretty far into the jungle. "You're not getting it back. Now, step off." turning to look at him, as if willing him to fight her. She could beat his ass and beat it hard. "Punching isn't the only thing I'm good at." though it did help.

Sawyer: "Oh so now you've gone from glorified donut muncher to bonified vig-eye-lantee," he was intrigued but not enough to hand over a gun without something in return as payment. "Ain't it something what time on a deserted island will do for someone's civilized nature." He stepped closer, getting within arms reach despite her threat of punching he could take a hit. "Now, Muchacha, you're going to hand that gun back over. I ain't opposed to hitting a woman if she deserves it." He didn't particularly like hitting women but she didn't need to know that.

Ana-Lucia: "Or what? What are you going to do, hit me?" she growled, having to take off the messenger bag and tossed it to the side. Readying her fist, and swung. She had other things up her sleeve. "You're not getting it back." shoving him onto the ground, whether the fist hit or not. She straddled him, and this time it wasn't for fun. raising a hand once more, to smack him upside the head. If he turned the tables on her she was screwed.

Sawyer: "Yeah I just mi--" he was cut off mid retort by a fist he captured with one hand. Now to either keep his word and hit her while she was vulnerable or simply try to subdue her without much violence. He didn't get much of a choice. She'd thrown her weight into it and with his footing not prepared for the shift of their bodies he toppled back to the ground with her weighing down on his waist again. "If I didn't know any better, sweetcheeks, I'd say you just like having me on my back all--" he had to stop his commentary to deal with another swing. "Goddamnit woman, you want me to hit you?!" While she was busy with that endeavor he attempted to reach for her waist, sure that she probably stashed the gun away there. At the very least it was worth a shot.
01 November 2009 @ 01:40 am
I can't seem to get off the ground just yet for Nano, but Jack would like to see what I've gotten so far. Here it is in all it's raw glory.

Decorated in the unmistakeably bright orange of the X-wing pilot's jumpsuit, Wedge Antilles shifted his vigilant stance. In the hangar bay which berthed Rogue Squadron's array of X-Wing fighters stood along the far wall a line of holostatues. Guardians, ever watchful, of the pilots who prepped themselves down below on the hangar's floor below. Captain Antilles made it a habit, or more like a ritual if his wing-men were asked to describe it, of standing in front of each of their transparent faces to look them in the eyes giving them his silent promise that he would not join their ranks until he'd seen the last of their sacrifices fulfilled.

It would be easy for a man to get swallowed up in the responsibility and weight of being a survivor; too easy to regret living in the face of those who had paid a heavy price. Shifting along to the next in line the stalwart leader held back a flinch. Biggs. The one face he was reluctant to revisit on these occasions. It was Biggs, ironically, who reminded him that for every time he returned from a close fought skirmish he kept his cockpit free of another soul who would be sent to stand in the line of fire. Each time the Rogues were successful lives were spared; even when lives were spent in the process.

Reflections were better suited for another time when he could have the luxury of indulging in senseless guilt. While his eyes scanned over familiar faces his resolve forged itself into steel upon sight of the news ones added to the list. Luke talked about anger as if it was a force capable of being controlled, Wedge was beginning to doubt that the Jedi fully knew what he was talking about. Maybe for a Jedi that level of control was possible, but for the average man it seemed like a task that was growing more impossible by the day.

There was an unmistakable sound of boots clicking along the catwalk to his right, but they carried a distinct stately air rather than the rugged shuffle of flight boots. It was pure instinct, rather than a predisposition to the Force, that had Wedge wheeling around with one hand easily gliding to his hip where the comforting weight of a blaster sat off to one side.
27 October 2009 @ 11:54 pm
Firstly, Jack got me a Wedge Antilles figurine which I am going to fap madly with---I mean use for inspiration. BEST BOYFRIEND EVER.

Any way, to the AW SHIT part. Nano is in four days and I still have no real antagonist. Sure  I know what he's going to be up to for plot purposes but I don't even know what RACE he is let alone what he LOOKS like or even his NAME. FUCK.

It may just be easier to create my own race that fits what I'm looking for instead of trying to sift through all the Star Wars canon for what I want. I know I want his political structure from the sector he's from to be accustomed to assassinations and political infighting as the norm. If you hold a political position of power you are expected to maintain that power and if you get yourself killed by an ambitious aide, well that was your own damn fault and you didn't deserve to have that office. Since they will be new to the fledgling Republic they have some getting used to in terms of the New Republic's government, which will make the situation even more sticky. To pile onto that, whatever his constituents are they bring in something very valuable to the Republic, something they wouldn't want to just toss aside for the Empire to scoop back up.

AAAAAAAAAAAH. I'm sure I'll come up with something.
23 October 2009 @ 10:27 pm
Part of an RP story line, but Dacon's all by his lonesome so I'm using Lj to fill in on what he's been up to.

Read more...Collapse )

“I feel as awkward as a Tartanian Narg in a suit,” Wedge complained, tugging at the confining fabric.

“Relax, you look distinguished,” Han chided with a lopsided smirk, one he was particularly famous for wearing.

“Yeah, that's just it isn't it? I don't want to be distinguished.” He wanted to be an architect but the Rebellion had other plans for him. Luke would have said it was his destiny, probably.

“You've earned it, whether you like it or not. Welcome to the world of being respectable.”

Wedge gave a halfhearted grin at the smuggler turned general. “Can you believe it, two Corellians turned respectable by a rebellion of all things.”

“We do our ancestors a great justice, I know. Now quit your fussing, you've got a ceremony to go to.”

“Don't remind me,” Wedge groaned, walking in stride with General Solo. “Couldn't they just pin a medal on me in the hangar bay and let that be that?”

“What? And let you miss out on squirming around all awkwardly in front of a crowd of bleary eyed kids wanting to be you? Fat chance. I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer up there.”

“You're a true friend, Han.”

“Wouldn't have it any other way. Good luck.” With that said the general parted ways to find Leia and sit in the audience.

Wedge took a gulp of the last calm air he'd get. He could fly into the heart of the Death Star, stand his ground against both Ssi-Ruusi and Imperial ships at Bakura, but ask him to stand in front of his peers and be distinguished with a medal and you had the ace pilot shaking in his boots. The Death Star was a walk in the park compared to the few meters of stage he had to traverse when his name was called.

In the realm of piloting every man and woman had to earn their stripes, he just never guessed it'd be in a crowded room where his nerves were truly tested.